Step on a crack
by FireApe
Summary: An eight-year-old Kurt blames himself for his mother's death.


**I should be studying for anatomy buuuut... this happened instead. Lemmie know what you think!**

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><p>It was the first weekend of warm spring weather in Lima. To celebrate, Kurt decided to spend the day out with Mercedes and Rachel. There was general joviality and shopping to be had, a much needed break from the stress of schoolwork and glee rehearsals. After the trio had done a satisfying amount of shopping at the mall, Rachel demanded that the perfect ending to the day would have to include a walk in the park with ice cream cones. Kurt and Mercedes obliged, though Kurt had to be persuaded to purchase some ice cream for himself (he claimed that it would all just go to his hips, to which Mercedes playfully smacked him and told him to live a little and just eat the damn ice cream).<p>

The three of them strolled along the cracked sidewalks of the park with their ice cream cones, watching children run and play in the last few hours of sunlight.

"I wish I could be a little kid again," Mercedes said with a wistful sigh. "Just to run around and not care about anything. Not have to worry about homework or grades or glee."

"You must not have been very involved as a child," commented Rachel as she finished her ice cream. "Even at a young and tender age I was always busy going to vocal or dance lessons. I was very talented from an early age, true, but I still worried about being the best in my lessons."

"That's because you have an unwavering need to be the best in everything," added Kurt lightly, licking at the side of his cone so the ice cream wouldn't drip on his fingers. "The egocentrism started early with you," he quipped with a sidelong glance, not unkindly.

To that, Rachel just smiled. "Well, it takes a lot of hard work to be the best!" she said proudly, all but strutting down the sidewalk.

Mercedes chuckled. "Girl, it just takes a lot of hard work to be _you_," she amended. "Besides, everyone knows _I'm_ the best in glee, anyway," she added with a grin.

Kurt raised a brow at his best friend. "Oh please. I believe my voice is superior to both of yours," he claimed, carefully stepping around a series of cracks in the sidewalk. He meandered over to a trashcan to throw away his empty cone. He ate the ice cream to shut the girls up, but he wasn't going to eat the sugar cone as well. He stepped over a particularly impressive crack in the ground as he made his way back over to the girls.

When he reached them, Rachel was giving him an odd look. Confused, he felt around his mouth. "Do I have ice cream on my face?" he asked, unable to feel any of the sticky mess on his skin.

"Why do you do that?" she asked, tilting her head to the side slightly, an act that made her look horribly childlike (as if her plaid skirt and mary-janes didn't do that already).

"Do what? Care about food on my face?" he asked.

"No. Avoid stepping on cracks in the sidewalk," she replied matter-of-factly. "You always do it."

"I've noticed it, too," added Mercedes. "You even change your stride to make sure you don't step on them sometimes."

Kurt had a confused expression on his face for a moment before realization settled in. "Oh," he said. "I didn't think I still did that." He started walking again, closely followed by the two girls.

"Why did you used to do it, then?" asked Rachel, lengthening her stride to keep up with the taller boy. She was determined to get to the bottom of this now that her interest was piqued.

Kurt gave a shrug. "Step on a crack and you break your mother's back," he recited nonchalantly.

"But you don't have a mother," stated Rachel, her eyes widening too late as she realized that her comment wasn't entirely the most sensitive thing she could have said.

"I'm well aware," replied Kurt, showing no offense. Mercedes, on the other hand, gave Rachel a sound swat on the arm.

"What Miss Tact here was trying to say is why do you believe in some silly little schoolyard rhyme?" asked Mercedes

Kurt was quiet for a moment as they continued to walk, their pace slowing ever so slightly. "I've never told you how my mom died." It was more of a statement than a question, and one that instantly put Mercedes and Rachel on edge.

"Kurt, you don't have to…"

"It happened real suddenly when I was eight…"

…

"Daddy's going to take you to school today, alright?" Kurt's mom stood in her robe as she finished preparing his lunch. Her eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep due to a fever and she would stop every so often to rub the kinks out of her neck.

"How come?" asked Kurt, carefully placing his necessary folders and notebooks into his bright purple backpack.

"I'm a little sick so I'm going to go back to bed and try to sleep a little bit," she explained, handing Kurt his Spice Girls lunch box.

Kurt looked up at his mother and took in her appearance. She did look kind of ill. Her eyes were tired-looking, which was strange because his mom always look bright and awake all the time. She definitely needed some rest. He gave a small nod. "You do look a little sick, mom. I hope you feel better."

She gave him a warm smile and gave him a hug. "I'll do my best. Now go on. Dad's waiting for you in the truck."

Kurt returned the hug and gave his mom a swift kiss on the cheek to go along with it. "Okay. See you later, mom! I love you!"

"I love you, too, Kurt," she said as the boy rushed out of the front door to meet his father.

Once in the truck, Kurt turned to look at his dad. "Are you going to the garage today?" he asked.

"For a little while, yeah. Why do you ask, kiddo?" he replied, backing out of the driveway and starting to make the drive to the elementary school.

"You should stay home with mom since she isn't feeling good," stated Kurt. He always felt better whenever someone was with him when he was sick and knew that his mom would like it if dad was there, too.

"I have to go in for just a bit today, but I'm gonna come home early to be with mom. That okay with you?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips as he glanced over at Kurt.

Kurt thought about it for a moment before nodding reluctantly. "I guess. I just don't want her to be lonely and sick at the same time."

"Don't you worry about it, pal. She's going to be sleeping the whole time I'm gone so she won't have any time to be lonely," he reassured him. "And she just has a little cold; she'll be better again in a couple of days, alright?"

"And then we can go see the ballet this weekend, right?" he asked excitedly.

His dad sighed and gave a nod. "Yeah," he said, somewhat unhappily. "We'll all go see that show you wanna see."

Kurt grinned excitedly as his dad pulled up to the drop-off area at the school. "Okay, bye dad! I love you," he called as he carefully climbed out of the truck.

"Love you too. Have fun at school and I'll pick you up later, alright?"

Kurt nodded and hurried off toward the building, eager to get to class early so he could show Mrs. Ashton his art project for _Charlotte's Web_.

While his teacher had been very pleased with his work, some of the other boys in class made fun of his drawing. Those boys teased him a lot, but his mom always told him that words were only words and he shouldn't let them bother him. All the same, he still didn't like it when the boys made fun of him. For that reason, the few friends that he had at school were girls. They were nicer, anyway.

By the time recess had come around, Kurt was in a grouchy mood. He was sitting by himself on the swings when he saw some bigger boys picking on a girl from his class. He didn't really mind it when the boys picked on him, but it was a rule that boys weren't allowed to be mean to girls. Pursing his lips, he hopped off his swing and marched over to the offending circle of boys. As he got closer, he could hear the things they were saying.

"Can't I just step over it?" asked the blonde girl timidly.

"Not if you want to see your mommy again," taunted one of the boys.

"Yeah, 'step on a crack and you break your mother's back'," added another boy. "She'll _die_!"

"But I won't step on it if I jump over it!" protested the girl, tears starting to form in her eyes.

At that point, Kurt had gotten close enough to make his presence known. "Hey!" he yelled, sounding much braver than he actually felt. "Leave her alone! You're being mean!"

One of the taller boys turned to look at him. "We aren't being mean. We're teaching her. She was about to step on that crack," he said, pointing to a series of cracks in the blacktop that actually surrounded the girl. She was essentially trapped by them. "We didn't want her to break her mom's back."

Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head. "That's not real," he stated, looking at the girl. "It's just a mean joke. Don't listen to them," he told her.

"But I don't want my mommy to die!" cried the girl.

"Look…" Kurt then proceeded to step defiantly on the crack, ignoring the cry of '_don't do it!' _from the girl. "See? Nothing bad happened." He stepped on it a few more times to prove his point.

The girl wiped her eyes and looked at Kurt hopefully. "You're sure your mommy's okay?" she asked.

Kurt nodded. "Positive. My dad would come to the school and get me if something bad happened. C'mon, let's go play on the swings," he said, holding out his hand to the girl. After a moment of hesitation, she took it and gingerly stepped over the cracks in the ground. Kurt glared triumphantly at the other boys, who were grumbling about their fun being spoiled, before leading the girl over to the swing-set.

His small act of heroism on the playground put him in a much better mood to finish out the school day. He got a perfect score on his math test and even answered some science questions right.

But his happiness started ebbing away as he sat on the curb outside waiting for his dad to pick him up. He was never late and now the only people who were walking out of the school were teachers. He passed time by humming to himself and picking some dandelions for his mom. Kurt was just about to go into the office to call his dad when a familiar voice called out his name from the parking lot. He turned to see, not his dad or mother, but his Uncle Andy. Kurt was confused. Uncle Andy never picked him up from school before, but he supposed his dad must have been busy taking care of mom.

Unperturbed, Kurt ran over to his uncle's car. He noticed that his uncle looked really sad. Why was he sad?

"Uncle Andy? How come you're picking me up?" he asked as he scrambled into the backseat.

"Your dad called me," he answered, his voice gruff and heavy.

"Oh." That was a good enough reason for Kurt. He knew his uncle wasn't much of a talker so Kurt sat quietly in the backseat, watching the buildings pass by as they drove down the road.

"This isn't the way to my house," said Kurt when Andy turned down an unfamiliar road. It was silly, really. His uncle knew where they lived, so why were they going this way?

"We're not going to your house."

The way he said that, with pain and sadness in his voice, made Kurt's insides turn to ice. "Where are we going, then?" he asked cautiously.

"The hospital."

Hospital… so his dad must have taken his mom to see a doctor so she could get better. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Everything was going to be fine.

"Okay. Is mom better from her cold? I want to show her my math test. I got a 100," he stated proudly.

"That's good, kid." Kurt didn't notice how he avoided his question. He was content in knowing that the hospital was where they made people get better from being sick. He couldn't want to see his mom and dad's face when he showed them his math test! Math was usually his hardest, but his mom had helped him with his homework last week and the tricks she taught him really helped him remember everything.

When they arrived at the hospital, Kurt followed his uncle quietly. He had only been to the hospital a couple of times when he got sick. The building was bigger than any other one he'd ever been in; he was sure that he would get lost if he didn't have someone to follow. After a few moments, they walked down a brightly lit hallway. Andy stopped outside of a door and turned to Kurt. "Wait here. I'm going to get your dad." Kurt nodded and obediently waited outside of the door while his uncle went inside. He was in there for a few minutes before it opened again. Kurt turned and smiled at his dad. However, upon seeing his father's stricken face his smile disappeared.

"What's wrong dad? Is mom okay?"

His dad's eyes squeezed shut and he bent down so that he was on his knees. When he opened his eyes again, Kurt saw that they were red and wet. He felt his dad place his hands on his shoulders. "Kurt…" He took a few deep breaths and blinked his eyes quickly. "Kurt, your mom's… she's… Kurt, she's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?" asked Kurt, scared. What did he mean she was gone?

"She's dead, Kurt," clarified his dad, looking pained as he spoke.

Dead. Kurt knew what that word meant. That was what happened to really old or really sick people. But his mom wasn't old. And she only had a cold! How could she be dead?

"H-how?" he asked, his eyes starting to fill with tears.

"She… she had a sickness called bacterial meningitis. It… the sickness was in her back and it… the doctors couldn't fix it fast enough…"

At that explanation, Kurt's tears started falling. "No! She can't… I didn't mean to…! I need to tell her I'm sorry!" He tried to wrestle out of his father's grip to get to the door. He had to see his mom. It was a sickness in the back! It was because he stepped on that stupid crack on the playground! He needed to apologize and make it better. Maybe if he told her he was sorry it would fix it.

"Kurt, no, you can't…"

"Lemmie go!" he shouted, finally wriggling out of his dad's grip. He darted over to the door and pushed it open. His Uncle Andy was sitting in a chair in a corner, but he didn't care about that. Kurt turned to the bed in the center of the room. There was his mom, lying there. She wasn't moving.

Kurt ran over to the bed and grabbed his mom's arm. "Mommy, mommy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to step on it! Please! I'm sorry! I won't ever do it again, I promise!" he sobbed, shaking her arm and trying to make her wake up.

He felt his dad's hand on his shoulder, trying to pry him away. "Kurt, she's gone."

"NO!" he cried. "No, mommy! Please! Wake up!" He put his hands on her face, trying to do anything that would make her open her eyes. "Daddy, she's cold, she needs more blankets!" he demanded, grabbing the thin hospital blanket at her feet and pulling it up over her body. If he made her warmer then she would wake back up, she had to.

"Kurt, she's not going to wake up," he said, his voice strained with his own heartbreak.

"But she has to! It's my fault! I did it and I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Kurt couldn't see anything anymore from all the tears in his eyes. He allowed his father to pull him away and envelop him in a tight hug.

"It's nobody's fault, you understand me?" asked his dad, but Kurt was too busy sobbing into his flannel shirt to hear or even respond. Kurt just kept crying _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I'm sorry._

…

The girls were silent as Kurt finished recounting the story of his mother's sudden death. Neither of them knew how to respond. It was finally Mercedes who broke the silence.

"Kurt… you know that wasn't your fault, right?"

The boy nodded, a somber expression crossing his features. "Yeah, I understand that now. But I spent the first few years afterwards avoiding cracks at all costs. I guess it just became a habit that I never really broke out of."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Rachel threw her arms around Kurt and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry for you, Kurt. That's such a horrible guilt to place on yourself at that age." She pulled back and looked him in the eye, ignoring the baffled expression on his face from her sudden show of affection. "You really don't blame yourself for that anymore, right?"

"No, Rachel. I promise," replied Kurt sincerely. "Trust me, I've done plenty of research on meningitis to know that it wasn't caused by me stepping on a crack on the blacktop at school." He gave the girls a small smile to let them know he was fine. Because really, he was. Sure, he still missed his mother horribly, but he no longer blamed himself for her death. Had the timing been different, he never would have even had the chance to blame himself. But that day had just ended up being morbidly ironic. He put so much effort into proving to that girl that stepping on cracks wouldn't kill your mother, and he'd ended up losing his in the same day. It had been long enough now that he understood how things really worked. Kurt thankfully no longer had the mindset of an eight year old, which was definitely a good thing.

"Well… I say we get off of this topic and talk about something else," announced Mercedes. Kurt shot her a thankful look, to which she replied with a knowing smile. "Like that amazing deal you got on that jacket, Kurt. I mean, I knew you were smooth, but damn, that was pure art!"

That got a laugh out of both Rachel and Kurt. The petite brunette had let go of Kurt by this point and the trio started heading back to the car. The sun would be setting soon and Kurt had promised his dad that he would be back home for dinner.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Kurt paid close attention to where he was stepping. Not to avoid the cracks, but to make sure that he stepped on every one he could just to prove to the universe that he truly didn't care anymore.

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><p><strong>Just a quick public service announcement on bacterial meningitis: If not treated quickly, it can be fatal. Death can occur in 24-48 hours after symptoms show if left untreated. There has been a lot of exposure to this at my university; the CDC has actually declared us as having an outbreak (we've had seven or eight cases in the past two years, including one death). I don't want to give cause for any panic, but please be aware of the symptoms and seek treatment quickly if you think you or someone else may have it. Get yourself vaccinated, especially college students since it can spread rapidly in those sort of environments. Be smart and be safe.<strong>


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